Leave Me Be, Mr Garak
by Jo Z. Pierce
Summary: Doctor Bashir has a funny feeling that Garak is spying on him.


_All the normal warnings and disclaimers apply. I own nothing. _

_Read story either as G/B Slash, or not. Works either way._

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Leave Me Be, Mr. Garak 

**by Jo Z. Pierce**

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"Is everything ok, Doctor?"

The sweet voice was almost lost on Julian Bashir. Obviously his mind was on something besides the scantily clad Dabo girl seated beside him at Quark's Bar.

"Doctor?"

As if shaken out of a dream, Julian shook his head just slightly, blinked, and refocused on his lovely date du jour.

"Is everything ok?" she repeated.

"Oh, yes. Of course."

It wasn't. But Doctor Bashir managed a smile, if only to be polite. He even offered to get her another drink.

"_Dammit. He's staring at us again,"_ the doctor thought. Julian could feel it. He was there, on the second level of Quark's Bar. Once again, that damned Cardassian tailor had managed to get that same bloody table. It was the perfect vantage point. It was the one seat in the whole bar that provided a view of every table, both on the lower level, as well as the upper level. It was the ideal spot for spying. And Julian couldn't help but feel his presence.

Garak's unwelcome gaze cut sharper than any scalpel known to science. It penetrated deeper than any probe ever could.

Bashir would swear that Garak was bribing the Ferengi waiters. How else could he possibly manage to acquire the same seat every single time? No matter who he was with, if Julian had a date with someone at Quark's bar, Garak was always there, staring down at him. Watching him.

In a quick, jerky move, Julian turned and looked over his shoulder. Garak was there, all right, but he was facing the opposite direction, and making pleasant conversation with the Flaxian merchant seated at the next table.

Julian felt foolish, as if he was now spying on the spy.

"Who is that, doctor?" Dabo Girl Du Jour asked innocently.

"Who's who?" Julian responded, hesitantly, while still looking over his shoulder. He didn't even notice her heavy sigh from obvious boredom.

"_Dammit!"_ Julian thought. _"Why can't I ever catch you spying on me?" _More than just foolish, Julian now felt a little paranoid. He finally turned around to his date, only to discover that she had already found a better offer with an off-duty Ferengi waiter.

Once, Julian tried to foil the tailor's plans. He picked up the cute little ensign from engineering fifteen minutes early, then hurried her over to Quark's bar. He insisted on sitting at one particular table, turning down three other available spots.

"No. Not those tables. _That_ one," he said, pointing.

He had to sit at Garak's table. It was a small victory, knowing Garak wouldn't be able to spy over his shoulder. Julian had finally beat him to it.

He was cocky for a few minutes, thinking he had finally beat the Cardassian at his own game.

Then he was furious when his date was cut short by a medical emergency.

Garak had severely cut his finger on a shipping crate filled with silk scarves from Kraus IV. Then he refused treatment by any of the medical staff on duty. The Cardassian insisted that he would only be treated by Dr. Bashir himself. He'd rather bleed to death in sick bay than let one of the Bajoran medics touch him.

The next day, Julian had spent a half an hour in Ops complaining about how the Cardassian wouldn't leave him alone. He insisted that it was effectively ruining his love life.

"It sounds like you're just trying to blame poor Garak for all of your failed dates!" Jadzia Dax commented, teasing her friend. "I mean, why don't you just take your dates somewhere else?"

"But... but... but I _like _Quark's!"

"I think he likes Garak spying on him..." Miles O'Brien finally chimed in from underneath a console.

"Is that you, Chief?" Julian asked, surprised that there was someone else listening in. "What? Is everyone spying on me, now?"

"I think he does, too," Jadzia agreed, exchanging a knowing smile with Miles as he gathered up his equipment.

Sometimes Bashir was convinced that Dax was putting Garak up to the whole thing. He imagined the Trill and the Cardassian shaking hands in some dark corridor, with wicked smiles on both of their faces.

"I assure you, Lieutenant," he imagined Garak voice as if it were a hiss. "He will never know that it was you who put me up to it."

Whatever Garak's motivation, Julian had just about enough. He was going to put an end to it. Tonight. One way or another. Even if it meant a broken friendship. Even if it meant he would have to find a new lunch partner. Whatever the consequences, Bashir was going to confront the Cardassian, and tell him to leave him be.

The doctor grabbed his drink, threw back the final sips, and prepared to make his way to the upper level. As he pushed away from the table, he felt a firm hand on his right shoulder.

"Doctor Bashir!" he heard from behind him. The voice was lyrical, and all too familiar. Julian closed his eyes tightly, upset that he was caught off guard. "Why, I hadn't noticed you sitting here, all alone!"

Julian took a deep breath, turned around, and smiled awkwardly at Garak.

"Hello, Garak."

"Do you mind?" Garak asked, pointing to the now vacant chair at Julian's table. The doctor sighed, then extended his hand, offering the spot to his new companion.

"Please." His voice was less than enthusiastic.

"I cannot understand, Doctor, how a handsome young Starfleet Officer such as yourself can find himself all alone at Quark's! And on his night off!" Garak's voice was convincingly perplexed.

"Tell me, Doctor," Garak continued, leaning in and dropping the volume of his voice. "Are you, for some reason, avoiding the company of your many Lady Friends?"

"No, Garak," Julian responded, almost accusing. "My date decided to leave early." His voice could not hide his feelings.

"I see. Well, then, might I recommend Holodeck Program number 92?"

"Garak. How long have I known you?"

The Cardassian thought about it, doing the arithmetic in his head.

"Since the first week you arrived on the station, Doctor... Almost four months now!"

"Yes. And tell me, Garak. Just how long have you been spying on me...?"

Garak looked at the doctor in shock.

"Me? Spying? On you?"

"Yes," Julian said, rolling his eyes. He leaned back in his chair. "Every week, in fact. From that table up there." Julian twisted his torso and pointed to Garak's favorite spot.

"Are you suggesting...?" Garak responded, defensively.

"Garak. Whatever your game is, I want it to stop. Right now."

"Game?"

"Leave me alone, Garak. Now."

The Cardassian sat back in his chair. He looked genuinely offended. He blinked several times, as if trying to put all the pieces together.

"You have been spying on me, Garak. Every time I bring a date here, you are up there, watching me." Julian once again pointed to the table, although he didn't turn his body this time.

"Doctor! But I always sit there! Come by, any time of the day! There is a very good chance you will find me there, minding my own business. Observing the latest fashions. Chatting with customers..."

"Oh, come on, Garak! How naive do you think I am?"

Garak took a deep breath, then his expression turned from hurt to angry.

"No, Doctor Bashir. How naive do you think _I_ am?!" The reply was terse. Biting. As sharp as a scalpel. As cold as a probe.

"Pardon?" Julian was again caught off guard.

"Tell me, Doctor Bashir. Am I nothing more than a friend of convenience to you?" Garak was now on the offensive. And if there was something that the young doctor was unprepared for, it was a Cardassian going on the defensive.

"I don't understand," Julian replied, sheepishly.

"Come now! Every week, you and I share lunches and conversations at the Replomat! And I strongly suspect that you have come to expect our weekly lunches. Haven't you?"

"Well... I guess..."

Garak drew his head back slightly, and looked down the ridge of his nose at the doctor, accusingly.

"You _guess_..." Garak mocked the doctor. "No. You _expect_ me to be there. I am there to do the things with you that no one else on this station will!"

"Pardon...?"

"Yes, Doctor! To share intellectual conversations with you! To discuss the subtle details of Exophilosophy! To debate the consequences of intergalactic politics! To predict the outcomes of the latest treaties! To sample the newest artistic trends from the far reaches of the Alpha Quadrant!"

Garak's voice began to carry. Several people at the bar turned to stare at the two men as they quarrelled.

"Yes, Garak! We both enjoy our lunches together," the doctor leaned in more and responded, in a purposefully low voice, hoping that Garak would follow suit.

He didn't.

"I see! But if perchance you happen to bump into me, let's say at Quark's, on your night off, I somehow become an _embarrassment_ to you?"

"Why... no! No, Garak. No..."

"Does the sad and lonely Cardassian tailor embarrass you, my dear doctor?!" Garak's voice was quite loud now. The sound level of the rest of the room dropped, as if the whole promenade was trying to listen in.

"No, Garak. No... not at all." The doctor tried to calm the tailor. Julian sighed. "I enjoy the time I spend with you. Honestly. I do."

Garak looked around. He pulled at his shirt, readjusting it as he shifted in his seat, uncomfortably. Then he looked away, as if hurt.

"Honestly, Garak. I do enjoy our time together. And I am always glad to see you." Julian spoke slowly and lowly, trying to reassure Garak of their friendship. Julian even felt guilty for his suspicions and accusations.

"Let me buy you a drink, Garak. Please."

Garak, without turning his head towards Julian, only shifted his eyes to peer at him.

"Please, Garak. I didn't mean to offend you."

"But you have." Garak's voice was once again dropped to a normal level.

"Then please accept my apology." Julian waived over a Ferengi waiter, ordering another round.

As if he were almost satisfied with the peace treaty, Garak gently nodded his head, and accepted the drink as a peace offering.

The two men sipped at their glasses in silence. Finally, the tension was cut when Jadzia entered the bar.

"Hello, Doctor. Garak." Her voice was friendly, as usual. Bashir smiled and offered a greeting as well, relieved at her arrival.

"Lieutenant," Garak also responded, with a polite nod.

As Jadzia passed by their table, she mubbled something underneath her breath. She made sure, however, that Julian understood every word.

"_Funny. I thought Garak liked to sit on the second level..."_

Julian turned quickly, only to catch her as she moved away. He turned back to Garak just as he was trying to hide a smile.

"Garak?"

"Oh, dear. It seems that it has already turned quite late, Doctor," Garak said, drinking the last drops of his kanar. "I must retire. But I do thank you for the drink, and the lively conversation."

Standing up, Garak looked around. His survey of the bar and the adjacent promenade was half paranoia, half ritual.

Julian smiled.

"So, Garak," Julian then said, to bring some resolution to the evening. "Same time, next week?"

The Cardassian bowed slightly to his friend as a sign of farewell.

"Yes, doctor. I can hardly wait."


End file.
